Reminiscing
by loser like us
Summary: Brittany S. Pierce remembers the day she met Santana Lopez, the new transfer student. Follow their story as they explore their feelings and learn eachother.. leading up to the present. Warning- character death, mild abuse, underage drinking
1. Chapter 1

Author's note- Okay guys! I was kind of reluctant to post this. Keep in mind, I haven't written in what feels like forever. This is me dipping my toes back in the water, so it isn't perfect. Thanks for reading.

Disclaimer- I don't own Glee or it's characters.

This will be split into probably about three parts. This chapter is fine, but read on at your own risk. There will be talks of underage drinking, death, VERY MINOR abuse, and probably some other stuff I'm forgetting. I'm not one for happy endings.

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I first laid eyes on Santana in the 6th grade. She was the new transfer student from Florida. It was obvious she was from the sunshine state, her skin a dark tan, her hair a deep, rich raven color. Santana looked like she belonged on the beach, not stuck in the middle of Ohio in January, where the sky was gray and the ground was covered in murky slush. With all that said, it came as a surprise to me when I found myself captivated with the transfer student. From the moment Mr. Schilling introduced her to the class, I had taken a fond interest in Santana. She was just too perfect. Her name sounded like silk. Her hair fell in lucious waves. Her skin was flawless. Her brown eyes were so bright and full of life.

The other kids in class didn't feel the same way, though. This was confusing to me. What was there not to like about Santana? They would pick on her, throw her against lockers, talk about her behind her back. Yet, throughout this, she would keep her head high, and would occasionally make a snide retort.

This amazed me. Whenever the kids at school teased me, I would cry. I couldn't help it, it hurt so bad. But, Santana never appeared upset.

Even while my infatuation for Santana grew, I never spoke to her. Santana was a very quiet and reserved girl, and though I was normally very outgoing, I was too shy to talk to the Floridian.

Slowly, Santana began to sift through the ranks. Her snide remarks made all the bullies back off, something no new kid has ever done. Soon enough, she was the top bitch at school. Everybody feared and respected her at the same time. We'd still never talked until the first day of 7th grade.

It was September, and abnormally chilly. I didn't know how to read the forecast. My mom made me take "smart pills", but they made me the opposite of smart, they made all the edges blurry. I didn't understand a lot of things, including the weather. So, mistakenly, I wore a tank top to school, and my mother didn't even bother to correct me.

As soon as I walked through the doors, I could tell everybody was looking at me. I stuck out like a sore thumb, wearing my tank top amidst a group of teens with jackets and sweaters on. Immediately I was targeted by two jocks (they thought they were hot shit for being on the middle school football team), who laughed tauntingly me.

"Dumb bitch, did you forget how to read a calendar?" One of them said, and I gripped my books close to my chest.

"Oh, look, Dave, the bitch has gone mute." The other one retorts when I didn't answer, too engulfed in my own fear to hear a locker slam in the distance and the sound of somebody walking towards us.

The boys noticed, though, because they quickly stopped talking, straightened up and turned around towards the figure. "Hey douchebags! Leave Brittany alone." It was Santana. All I could think was, "She knows my name?"

Even though he looked like he was about to piss his pants, one of the jocks, Dave, scoffed. "Oh yeah? What is she, your girlfriend?"

This time, it was Santana that scoffed. "You wish." She pushed him into the locker next to me, putting a threatening finger on his chest. "Didn't you hear me, or are you deaf? Leave Brittany alone." She growled, narrowing her eyes at him. She took the finger off his chest and backed away, her face slowly softening but still looking displeased.

The boys quickly left, and she turned to me, her face slowly softening, a sympathetic smile gracing her face, a sight that I'd never seen before. "Are you okay?"

"Yeah, I'm fine, thanks." I say firmly, but my face says otherwise. My lip is quivering and my eyes are watery. Bullies always made me cry.

"You don't look fine." She glanced around the halls, looking at the other kids before taking my arm and leading me down an empty hallway into another barren room.

"I found this last year. I think it used to be an old storage room. It's empty, now." She says, looking around the room, shrugging, before glancing back at me. "I also stash some of my stuff in here. My locker is too small to fit all my crap."

I stay quiet, not knowing what she means. Silent tears flowed down my face. She moves into the corner and starts rummaging through a bag. She pulls out a sweater and hands it to me. I blush, wiping under my eyes and taking it, uttering out a soft, "Thanks."

"Is that all you know how to say?" She asks, a small smirk appearing on her face. This elicits a small giggle from me.

"No. I'm Brittany." I said, and put her sweater on.

"I know." Santana replied, a twinkle in her eye. "I'm Santana."

"I know." I parrot, and Santana laughs, a true genuine laugh. Her eyes and nosed were scrunched up and her face was set in a wide grin. She looked so beautiful.

From that moment on, we were inseperable. Santana kept me safe, and I kept her happy. She learned all about me and I learned all about her.

I explained why I was sometimes not "fully there". I had always played dumb so people would leave me alone, and then in the 3rd grade my mother caught wind of this. They took me to a specialist, who said I had a learning disability and put me on medication without really diagnosing me. She just listened to what my mom had to say and threw a bottle of pills at me. The pills make everything a little foggy and hard to understand.

Santana listened to all of this with a frown on her face, but she was understanding. When I had finished, she went, "B, I don't think you really have a learning disability."

"I know."

"What?" Santana asked, looking confused herself. "Why haven't you told anybody?"

"I told you." I said, a weak smile forming at an attempt to lighten the mood but Santana didn't budge. "If I tried telling that to my mom, she'd probably slap me and call me a liar."

Her eyes widen slightly, and she nods. "Fine." She never said anything about it again. She just understood. She helped me with all my homework, being much more kind and forgiving than my teachers, never giving up on a subject until I learned it. She helped me decipher conversations I wasn't following, and she never questioned anything that I said.

She was everything a girl could ever want. One time, when we were working on math homework, I was thinking about this. "I wish you were a boy." I said, laying on my bed, watching her from across the room. She stopped what she was writing down and glanced back at me, curiously. "Or, I wish I was a guy. Either way."

"What do you mean?"

"Like, so we could be boyfriend and girlfriend."

She bit her lip and turned away from me, working on her homework again. She never did respond to me, and I wish I could know what she was thinking. I think that she had just passed it off as the meds talking. But, it wasn't.

Another twenty minutes passed, I was letting her work in peace. I, myself, was stuck on the first question. My mind was too busy thinking about other things, like Santana. It's hard not to when you have her sitting five feet away.

"San?" I asked. She didn't look up, she was working diligently.

"Hmm?"

"Have you ever kissed somebody?"

This time, she did set her pen down, swiveling around in her chair, with a raised eyebrow and a soft smile. "Why?"

"I mean, have you?"

"Well, yeah, but why are you asking?" She replied, hesitantly, her mocha eyes filled with confusion.

"I haven't." I said, looking at her. "I have a date Friday." I lied, trying to find a way to ask what I really wanted to say.

"Oh? With who?" She asked, a smirk falling upon her face, but her eyes told a different story. There was some other emotion lying underneath. She just hid it well.

"Noah." I said, lying again. If necessary, I was sure I could actually get him to go out on a date with me if Santana got suspicious. He would date anybody.

"Oh." She said, turning back around and leaning over her paper, starting to write some more as she said, "Well, you'll make a cute couple. And, you can have your first kiss. God knows he is going to try and kiss you, with his reputation."

My cheeks heat up as I try to find the words I want to say next. "Yeah, well, um- that's kind of why I brought it up. Because of his reputation, he's probably going to kiss me. But I don't really know how.."

"It will come to you when you start-" She started to talk but I cut her off.

"Santana. I don't know how to do it. I've seen it in the movies and in real life, but it doesn't make any sense." That wasn't a lie, I really didn't understand kissing, I just knew I really wanted to kiss Santana.

She swiveled around, once again, but this time it was so fast I could've sworn it would give her whiplash. "What are you asking me to do here?" She asked slowly, a slight blush creeping onto her face, tinging the tips of her ears and her cheeks a soft red, even though she always says ethnic people don't blush.

"I want you to show me how." I breathe out, closing my eyes out of nervousness. What if I lost my best friend over this? What if I was making this all up in my head?

"You want me to-?"

"To kiss me." I affirmed, nodding my head. "I mean, only if you want to. It won't mean anything, it's just for practice." I said, holding back a wince at the words that came out of my mouth.

"Just for practice?" She asked, getting out of her chair and walking closer to where I sat on the bed. I was unsure of whether she was going to say yes or slap me.

"Just for practice." I confirmed, as she sat down next to me, looking into my eyes.

"You swear you won't tell anybody?"

"It'll be our secret. Pinky promise." I answered, holding out my pinky. She flashed a soft smile, locking her pinky with mine and squeezing it tight.

"Okay."

"Okay?" I repeat, taking a deep breath. Did she mean what I thought she meant?

She nods and then starts to lean in, closing the gap. My stomach fills with butterflies. When her lips finally touch mine, it feels like fireworks go off in my head. I quickly reciprocate, wrapping my arms around her neck.

Santana gently leaned forward and laid me down on the bed, laying on top of me as we continued to kiss, full-on making out by this point. When we finally had to pull away for air, Santana had that sparkle in her eye that she gets and our lips were both red and swollen.

"Wow." She breathed out.

"I think I'm ready now." I say, eliciting a wide grin from Santana.

"I think you do, thanks to yours truly." She replied cheekily, pointing both of her thumbs at herself and smiling.

"For sure. But now I'm sleepy. Can we go to bed now?" I ask, and she nodded, getting up from the bed to change.

The next day at school, she had been giving me the cold shoulder. I had woken up to a note on my nightstand, saying her parents called and she had to leave, but she'd see me at school. So, I didn't think much of it and remained optimistic that I would indeed see her at school. But then, she didn't sit next to me in the classes we had together. She wasn't at her locker each time I checked. It was like she was avoiding me.

Fortunately, I caught a glimpse of her as she was briskly walking out of Algebra. "Santana!" She continued to walk ahead, pretending like she didn't see me. "San." I say, grabbing her arm, forcing me to look at her. I could tell she looked hurt, but I didn't know why.

"Let go." She growled and I immediately shrunk back in guilt, mixed with fear. She notices my expression and looks guilty, too. "Come on." She says, softer this time.

She turns and starts to walk down the hall, and I follow, recognizing where we are going. Our room. We had gone there anytime we needed to get away from all the other kids, or sometimes just to talk. This time, she seemed pissed, and I knew this was going to be a shitfest.

But to my surprise, when she walked in the room and closed the door behind us, she turned around and had the calmest expression on her face. "What did you want?"

This time it was my turn to get mad. "Are you kidding me?" I asked, narrowing my eyes. "Are you telling me that after ditching me this morning and ignoring me for the rest of the day, you have no idea what I want to talk about?" My voice gets higher throughout my rant. She shifts her weight and bites her lip. I had never raised my voice at her.

"I don't want to talk about it."

I frown. "I said it didn't mean anything, San. It was just for practice."

"Oh, that's bullshit, you and I both know it. You just wanted to manipulate me so you could get into my pants. I thought we were friends, Brittany."

My eyes widen at her words, and I quickly reply. "We are friends. Best friends. And I don't like this fighting, okay? I shouldn't have asked you to kiss me last night. And I wouldn't have if I knew it would do this to our friendship. It was just for practice, I swear."

Santana looked so vulnerable at that moment. Her eyes looked a little glossy, and they were wide-set. She was chewing on her lip and playing with her fingers. "Just for practice?" She asks, and I nodded in return.

"I won't ever do it again, okay? I just want our friendship to get back to normal."

"No!" She shouts, almost too quickly. A deep blush appears on her cheeks. "I mean- your date with Puck still isn't until Friday, yeah? One kiss isn't going to make you some expert. We probably need to practice some more, so your kiss can blow him away."

I nod dumbly, smiling at her. She returns it and I engulf her in a hug. "Damn, Britt, it was only one day. You act like I ignored you for a month."

I pull away and smile again. "I missed you."

San's cheeks started to turn red again. "I missed you too, B."

I grinned and poked her cheek. "I thought ethnic people didn't blush." She shot me a playful glare and I giggled.

Over the years our relationship grew stronger, and definitely into more than just friends. Practice kisses turned to frequent make out sessions, and eventually make out sessions led to sex. Samantha had refused to put a label on us, citing her parents every time. Eventually, I let it go and stopped bringing it up.

Let me tell you, as much as I loved being with Santana, it really did suck to hide. Anytime I'd try and talk about her sexuality, she would shut down and change the subject.

Soon, high school came. And with that, came change. Santana seemed like a totally different person. I didn't love her any less; she was just different.

She got meaner to the other kids (she was still nice to me), she started caring what other people thought of her, and most of all she started caring about her social status at the school. Almost immediately, Santana begged me to try out for the Cheerios, McKinley's cheerleading squad with her. She told me that all of the popular girls were Cheerios. I didn't care about that, though. I just agreed because it was Santana and I would do anything for her.

The Cheerios turned out to not be half bad. We got to wear hot outfits and perform choreographed routines that were pretty much like dancing, so that was fun. The only bad part about it was Coach Sue. She was really mean to us, and I didn't like it. Santana made it worth it, though.

Also with high school came boyfriends. I never wanted one but Santana insisted that we would have to date football players to get respect. I would get a twinge of jealousy anytime I saw her with a boy. I think she did too, when she saw me with a boy.

She started dating Puckerman. I didn't like that guy. He seemed to have many other "side chicks" as well as Santana, and I was scared she was going to get hurt.

"I don't think he's a very good person, San." I told her one night, when came over to my house, looking for advice on an outfit for her date.

"Yeah, well, I think he is. You dated him, too." She points out, as she held a dress out in front of her body.

I bite my lip when I hear her refer to the lie I told. She didn't know I lied, though. "Exactly, so I should know better than anybody."

She was looking at herself in the mirror and then she turned around, looking at me. "What about this one?" She asked.

"Isn't it a little too.. short? It's the winter, you know."

She rolled her eyes. "That's the point, I'm trying to get laid, B."

"You're not trying to get laid. If you were trying to get laid, you would just have sex with me." I retort, and I saw her wince. "You're trying to get popular."

"That's the beauty that comes along with it." She says nonchalantly as she puts on some lipstick. "So, this dress or no?" When I just shrugged, I saw a glint in her eye appear. I gulped. "Would you fuck me in this dress, Britt?" She asked lowly.

"Y-yes." I stutter out and she walked over and gave me a quick peck on the lips.

"Good. So, I'm wearing this dress."

"Tease." I groan, rolling over so my face is in the pillow and I hear her laugh in the background.

"You'll get some later, I promise. Especially if the sex is bad, and it probably will be." She says, grabbing her purse.

Later that night, she had texted me saying she was coming through my window. I'm not sure what I expected, but I didn't expect to see a puffy eyed, disheveled Santana. As soon as she got through the window, she practically ran over to me and hugged me tight, crying softly into my shoulder. I comforted her, and once she calmed down she explained what happened.

Apparently, she was on the date at Breadstix when Puck said he was going to go to the bathroom. After twenty minutes, he still hadn't come back, and she figured he ditched her. But, he had actually gone up and went somewhere in Breadstix, not out the door. So, instead of leaving, she got up walked in the direction he went. She had been surprised to find a storage closet, not a bathroom. There were sounds coming from it, so she opened the door. Puck was in there fucking the waitress. She said Puck remained eerily calm even though his girlfriend just caught hin cheating, like it wasn't a big deal. He even invited her to join in. She stormed off and that's how she ended up here.

"You're so good to me, B, you know that?" She says softly, as she's cuddled up on my chest, looking up at me. I just lock eyes with her and smile warmly instead of responding. Then, she slowly started to creep down my body, and I looked down at her questioningly. When she slipped a hand in my pants and laid a palm over my panties, I knew what she was doing. I looked at her face, but she was emotionless. It was tear stained and still red and puffy, and she wouldn't make eye contact with me. It wasn't right. It wasn't how it nornally was.

"Santana." I say, as she runs a finger over my slit, making me shiver. She didn't look up at me. "Santana!" I said, louder and making it more apparent that I wasn't just moaning her name but I actually wanted to say something.

She stilled her movements and finally looked up at me for the first time. "What?"

"What are you doing?" I ask, breathing a little heavy, since there is a girl between my legs with her hand down my pants.

"I told you I would do this earlier. And then you had to sit and listen to me cry, I wanted to repay you."

I frown, pulling her hand out, motioning for her to come lay down next to me. She hesitantly crawls up the bed, laying next to me as I cuddle into her. "Look, S, I don't need you to repay me. I'm not in this friendship for sex. I love you, you're my best friend. You think that comforting you tonight was a burden to me? That I was just doing it for some sexual gratitude? I would never do that. You mean to much to me. I could never take advantage of you like that." I finished. She had her head turned around, staring into my eyes, like she was searching for something. Her eyes had become watery again, and I wiped up a tear with my thumb, frowning. "I didn't mean to make you cry."

She smiled, sniffling and wiping her tears away, too. "Happy tears, Britt. You're too good for me." She repeated from earlier.

"You're too good for me." I say back, and she giggles. I think she finally found what she was searching for in my eyes, because she leaned in and kissed me softly. Not a peck like earlier, and not a sex-hungry kiss like our others were. This was longer and it felt like it meant something. When she finally pulled away, she stared at me again, a dopey smile spreading over her face.

"What? Do I have something on me?" I ask, reaching up to touch my face. This made her smile wider.

"Nope." She said, popping the p. "I was just thinking about how amazing you are."

"You're amazing too." I replied, since it was true. She rolled over and cuddled into my again, dozing off. But before she did, I heard her mumble, "You're too good for me.", once more.

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Let me know! I'll upload the second part sometime wirhin the next week, and then I'll finish the last part.


	2. Chapter 2

**A/N-**

 **Sorry for the wait guys! I know, a week my ass! I wanted to add something to this (I did, eventually) but I spent way too long trying to make it right and then I went through a little case of writers block but here it is.**

 **Disclaimer- Same thing, I don't own Glee or it's characters, blah blah blah.**

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Another thing that came with high school were parties. Santana told me that we had to go to them for public image. I could care less about that. But, it was Santana, so I went anyway.

On one Friday in the summer, we went to one of Puck's famous parties. I had heard rumors that Puck and Santana were getting close again, but I didn't believe them. She would have told me.

As always, once we stepped inside his house, she turned me to face her. She never let me drink any alcohol. I wasn't sure why, but I didn't mind, because I didn't really want to try it anyways. "Remember, B, no drinking. Don't take any drinks from anybody, no matter how nice they're being." I nod and she smiles back, and starts to walk away.

"Wait!" I call and she turns back around, with a questioning look. "Where are you going?"

"Over there." She points to a couch, where Puck sat. He notices her and smiles creepily. A chill ran down my spine. I didn't like him.

"You're back together with him?" I said, not bothering to hide my disgust.

"Kind of. Try to have fun, okay? I'll find you later." She told me, and with that she walked away, leaving me standing near the doorway.

I walked over to Puck's bar, sitting on a stool, watching Santana and him from across the room. They were close, too close, whispering about something. And then they kissed. I turned around quickly, not being able to watch.

A voice rung out. "You look tense." I looked up, it was that tall, awkward guy from the football team. His name was Finn Hudson.

I mustered up a weak smile in return. "Do you want a drink?"

"No." I reply out of habit. But, I was kind of thirsty. "Actually, sure, do you have anything to drink?"

A flash of confusion crossed his face, probably because I had asked him if there were drinks here when there were bottles of alcohol strewn about. I didn't mean it that way, though, I was asking if there was anything other than alcohol here. I was just about to elaborate but then he seemed to understand and nodded, walking off.

He came back two minutes later with a red cup in his hand. It looked like water, but it smelled funny. By now, I was really thirsty, and my throat was parched. I took the cup from him and drank it fast, the sharp taste surprising me. I swallowed it with a wince.

"Whoa, whoa, take it easy. Don't go so fast."

I smiled in return. "This tastes funny." He laughed and agreed, walking away.

I was left alone again, and I finished my whole cup. I was starting to feel a little woozy, so I was going to get up and tell Santana that I was tired and wanted to go, but as soon as my feet touched the floor I felt dizzy, like I might pass out. So, I climbed back onto my barstool and waited. Finn appeared again, coincidentally just when I got thirsty again, and refilled my drink.

Once I finished that, I was feeling really weird. My vision was blurry around the edges and everything seemed like it was spinning. I scanned the room, trying to find Santana. Panic flooded me when I couldn't find her, and I couldn't fight it away. I started crying and calling for her, and then from what I was told, I blacked out.

When I woke up, my vision was really blurry and I could see two figures squabbling. I looked around, I was laid on a bed in some room. The people were fighting in the doorway. "Why the fuck did you let her drink?" I recognized this voice immediately as Santana.

"I, um, she asked me for a drink." The guy, who I figured out was Finn, said. You could tell he was clearly nervous and intimidated by Santana.

"She wouldn't have done that. You must have understood her wrong."

Finn appeared to get a little fed up with Santana and shot back, "I didn't know there was a set of rules that came with her! You can't expect everybody to just know these things. And you can't expect me to not give her alcohol when she asks for a drink at a fucking party." He spat. My vision was clearing up now, and I could see Santana narrow her eyes. "If you actually cared about her, maybe you wouldn't have been off fucking Puck somewhere and you would have been with her, and then this wouldn't have happened." That was it, Santana snapped and slapped him. The sound echoed across the room and they were quiet for a minute. I wasn't paying attention to that though, I was paying attention to what he had just say.

"You don't care about me?" I croak out, my throat a lot drier than I expected it to be.

She turned around quickly, eyes widening. "You're up." At this point, Finn leaves, giving a short wave to me.

"You don't care about me?" I repeat as she closes the door. Tears are filling my eyes and start to get that familiar feeling in my stomach.

"Of course I care about you." She says, walking closer, a worried look in her eyes.

I didn't listen to her and started to panic. "You don't care about me!" I shouted. "You only came here so you could fuck Puck-"

"I didn't have sex with Puck." She interrupted.

"-and you ignored me the entire time! Why did you even bring me here? Why do you want to be with Puck? Am I not good enough for you? Do you even love me? Are you just using me for sex?" With that, Santana glances nervously at the door, like she was worried someone was listening. "You don't care about me anymore. You care about popularity, and you have new friends, and boys. You don't love me." I was sobbing, wanting this feeling to go away. I hated the words coming out of my mouth.

"Brittany.." She said softly, sitting on the bed next to me.

"No! Stop it!" I say, sitting up, pushing her off. "You're trying to manipulate me into thinking you care! That's all you ever do, manipulate me!" I see hurt flash over Santana's face. "You only do it for s-sex, you don't care about me, you don't l-l-ove me!" I say, and my body startings wracking with uncontrollable sobs, as I pulled my knees to my chest and rocked myself back and forth.

I felt the bed shift as she sat next to me. I was too panicked to care, and she wrapped her arms around me, laying her head on my shoulder. "It's okay, shh.." She repeated over and over, making soothing patterns on my hand with her thumb.

Finally, after about a half hour, she was able to calm me down. I felt much better. I wish I never said those things. They were making me have bad thoughts.

Santana was in the same position she had been in, running her fingers through my hair. "I do love you, you know."

"You love me?" I ask, my heart fluttering.

"I do."

"Why can't you just tell that to everybody else? Why do we have to have boyfriends and hide like this? I hate it."

She frowns. "I'm just not ready to tell anybody yet. Everybody's opinions of us will change and they're going to be awful. I wouldn't be able to forgive myself if someone hurt you, Britt." She says, glancing down. "I don't even know what my parents would do. Kill me, probably." She looks back up at me and catches the worry in my eyes. "Not literally. But they'd probably disown me. I'm just not ready for all of it, okay? I promise I'll tell everybody eventually. It's just not a good time."

"You promise?"

"I promise." She says, kissing my forehead. I suddenly felt exhausted and the sound of Santana softly singing "Songbird" coaxed me to sleep.

She never went to a party if I didn't want to, and she always stuck by my side when we did go, after that incident. She also seemed more open with me. She didn't seem as ashamed when we would kiss in private, she would tell me she loved me, and she wouldn't mind when I said things in public that had a hidden meaning about us.

In a way, I was thankful for my alcohol induced paranoia. I never would have gotten to that point in our relationship had it never happened. Santana said she thought it was the result of my meds mixing with the alcohol, and to never drink again because it scared the shit out of her. I agreed, of course.

In our junior year, we had to take the SATs. Santana had prepped with me all summer because she was set on getting us both into college. She wanted to move to New York, since everybody was more accepting there. She promised me she would tell out family and friends about us as soon as we both graduate and get out of Lima. I was fine with this, because at least I finally had a date to look forward to.

All summer, she had been studying like crazy. When the time came to actually take the SATs, she was a nervous mess. When I asked why, she said it was her one ticket out of here. I knew she had nothing to worry about since she was so smart, and I told her as much.

When our test results came in the mail, I texted her with a quick, "I'm coming over." I walked down the familiar streets to Santana's house, it was only a 10 minute walk. She was already waiting for me on her porch when I got there, laying on a chair, playing absentmindedly with the edges of the envelope.

I walked up the short stairs and she looked up with a warm smile when she heard me. "Hey."

"Hi. Ready?" I respond, taking her hand and pulling her up. She nodded in response, walking into the house. She let go of my hand right as we walked through the living room, where her parents were watching television. I frowned at her for a second before forcing a smile and waving a polite hello to the Lopez's.

By the time we reached Santana's room, I had pulled my letter out of my pocket. We sat on the bed, facing eachother.

"You open mine, and I open yours." She says, holding her letter out to me. I take it, setting it in my lap, her hand still extended towards me for my letter.

I take both of her hands in mine, squeezing them gently. "You have nothing to worry about, Santana. You're the smartest girl I know." I told her with a comforting smile.

"You think so?"

"I know so." I say confidently and she takes a deep breath. "Anyways, we can always retake it, I might have to."

"Don't do that." She says, frowning.

I cock my head, sending her a questioning look. "Don't do what?"

"Act like you're dumber than the rest of us." She replied, and I looked down, chewing my lip. She leans forward, and I feel her gentle fingers under my chin, pushing it up and forcing me to look at her. "You're a genius, Brittany, and I love you." She says, looking at me with so much love in her eyes, I almost melted.

"I love you too.." I murmur, before glancing down at my lap again, realizing I hadn't given her my letter yet. I hand it out to her, and she takes it from me. "Ready?" I ask, and she nods slowly, and we both tear open the envelopes.

Santana's eyes scanned over the piece of paper, and I watched as her face broke into a grin. "You passed Britt, you got a good score." She said, looking up at me. Her face fell when she noticed my emotionless face. "What is it? What did I get?"

I stay quiet, glancing down at the paper and back at her. "Brittany, stop teasing and tell me." Santana said, looking more and more nervous by the second.

Finally, I cracked and told her. "Near perfect." I said, grinning, throwing the paper at her. She looked shocked.

"Really?" She asks, and I gesture at her paper so as to say, 'look yourself.' She understood what I meant, and read her own letter, her beautiful smile appearing again. "Wow."

"Uh-huh, I told you you had nothing to worry about. Should've listened to genius Brittany." I tell her, smiling cockily.

She giggled and beckoned me to come closer. I obliged, crawling up the bed until I was right in front of her. "You're amazing, Britt-Britt."

She was amazing. I leaned forward, closing the gap, touching her lips gently with mine. She deepened the kiss, laying down and pulling me on top of her.

Suddenly, the door opened and I heard a shrill scream following. Santana quickly pushed me off, sitting up straight. I would have been hurt if I hadn't seen the terrified look on her face. I'd never seen her so scared. Her mother was standing in the doorway, her mouth slightly open and her eyes wide with shock.

"Mamí.." Santana tried, getting up and walking closer to her. Maria took a step back, looking disgusted. "Please, I can explain!" She begged, tears welling up in her eyes.

Her mom wasn't listening to her, though. She was staring straight at with a steely glare. I gulped. "Get out." She practically growled.

I inhaled a shaky breath. "Mrs. Lopez, it's not her fault. I love he-"

She cut me off mid-sentence. "You forced my daughter into a sinful relationship! I will not have such trash in my house." Maria said, her eyes narrowed.

"If you could please just take a moment for us to explain, she didn't do anything!" I beg, but then I feel Santana's fingers on my arm, and I look over at her.

She looked broken. Her beautiful brown eyes no longer held that spark that they used to. She had silent tears streaming down her face. My heart broke for her. "Go.."

"Are you sure?"

"I'll be okay." She answered, giving me a weak smile that wasn't very reassuring. "Really." She added, when I was unconvinced. I frowned and got up, walking past Maria and through the living room where Antonio had just gotten up to see what was going on. I sped past him and out the door, releasing a breath I didn't know I was holding. I really hoped Santana was right.

I could hear Antonio now yelling, and Santana desperately answering. She wasn't shouting, she was begging. I had never seen Santana like this. I wished I could be there for her.

Most of what they were saying was in Spanish, and I didn't understand. Most of what Santana said was English. She was mostly just saying sorry hysterically over and over.

Then, I heard my name come out of Antonio's mouth, but the sentence was Spanish and I didn't understand it. It was dead silent for a few seconds. "Don't bring her into this." Santana spat.

"She's filth." I heard her mother say and I bit my lip to keep from crying.

"Don't call her that!" Santana shouted.

"Ella es el diablo, y no quiero que vuelvas a hablar con ella."

I didn't understand that, but it seemed to make Santana mad. "She is the only good thing left in this shitty world! I love her and as soon as I graduate we are leaving this god awful town and spending the rest of our lives together!" She shouts and I can hear her crying. "I love her!"

"Don't say such things. She has brainwashed you into thinking you love her." Her mother said.

"She h-hasn't brainwashed me. We l-love each other and that's never going to change." Santana was breaking. I had to fight off the urge to go in there and hug her.

All of the sudden, I hear a loud smack and somebody fell to the floor. It was followed by silence. Then, Antonio spoke. "Get out of my house."

"Papi.." I heard Santana squeak.

"Get OUT!" He shouted and I heard Santana scramble up and practically run out of the door, almost hitting me.

"Brittany.." She breathed out, as tears streamed down her face. Her nose was bloody and slightly swollen. It dawned on me, he had hit her.

I instantly pulled her into a tight hug, and she sobbed into my shoulder. "Shh.." I say, running my fingers through her silky hair.

"I don't-" She gasped for air. "I d-don't know what to do."

I pulled away and looked her in the eyes. "Right now, we're going to go to my house, and I'm gonna fix you up, and you're going to stay with me."

Her eyes watered and she nodded, pulling me in for another short hug. "You're too good for me." She whispers.

"Yeah? I thought it was the other way around." I said, getting a sad smile in return. "Come on, let's go." I took her hand, leading her down the steps.

"Let's take my car." She suggested.

"Fine, but I'm driving." I replied, and she nodded, fishing her keys out of her pocket and giving them to me.

I unlocked the car that was sitting in the driveway, opening the passenger door for Santana. She slid in, avoiding my eyes and I walked around the other side, getting into the drivers seat and turning the car on.

The first two minutes of the drive were silent. I kept glancing at her in the corner of my eye, but all she was doing was staring out the window. She looked like she was deep in thought. "I never thought he would do that."

"Do what?"

"Hit me. I'd gone over every possible scenario in my head, how they might react. But I never thought he would hit me." She said solemnly.

I frown, feeling a little guilty. She had gotten hit after she stood up for me. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault he's an asshole."

The rest of the car ride was quiet. I took her home and cleaned her nose up. Luckily, it wasn't broken, just bruised.

I sang her the chorus of "Songbird" before we went to sleep, and she told me I should join Glee Club. I told her maybe.

The next few days, she seemed eerily at peace with the whole situation. She always acted happy. She refused my offer to skip school, so nothing looked like it was wrong.

She didn't seem phased by her parent's late night phone calls that were either begging her to come home or chastising her for her "sins". I should've known something was wrong when that night, she told me, "Goodbye, Brittany." before she headed to the guest room. I figured she just mixed her words up. That happened to me all the time. But, most of all, I should've known she was hurting.


End file.
